The Kingless Land - Ed Greenwood [56]
"I wouldn't advise drinking any of that, after all this time," Sarasper said, "but it still bears a few flickering preservative magics. Enough to power a spell, I hope."
Embra looked around at the pile and pursed her lips. Wearing a lopsided smile, she sighed again, went to the tapestries, seized hold, closed her eyes firmly, and pulled.
The expected roar followed, and she let it take her to the floor.
When she could find her breath again, the Lady of Jewels crawled out from under the small mountain of dust and cloth that had fallen on her, triumphantly tore off a large piece to the audible amusement of Craer and Hawkril, and brought it back to the table. "Any chance of someone helping me rig this bundle to hang on my back?" she asked, stuffing knickknacks gingerly into disintegrating cloth.
"Just add them to the sack," Hawkril rumbled, swinging it off his shoulder. "If I can carry a dozen or so wet wizard's books, I can haul a few candlesticks, too."
Embra had forgotten the books. She could smell the mildew from here. She looked at the sack, sighed, and then held out a candlestick and a handful of bracelets.
Instead of taking them from her, the armaragor turned white and dropped the sack, hauling out his sword. "Claws of the Dark One!" he gasped.
"What-?" she asked in puzzlement, and then saw Craer crouching with dagger drawn, too. She spun around, snatching up another handful of bracelets.
The chamber seemed to be full of half-rotting, half-skeletal figures, floating in eerie silence in a tightening ring around the Band of Four. Three dozen pairs of glittering ghost eyes were fixed on her as she turned, slowly, hand on hip, and slid the bracelets onto her forearm. "We've disturbed something, healer," she said quietly, "but I see nothing here that can harm us."
"Some ghosts can harm, though, can't they?" Craer asked, his voice not quite steady.
"Yes," Embra replied in a soft voice, holding her bracelet-adorned arm up almost defiantly. The carrion-apparitions seemed to fall back as she touched a finger to the bowl in her bodice and made lights flicker up and down the bracelets. "I met one, once. My father's idea of strengthening my courage."
"Need we stay?" Hawkril asked abruptly, as, again, the ghosts drifted nearer.
"I think we'd best move," Craer agreed. "What if the baron's wizards slip some sort of menace against us-a spell, a monster, or even one of them, in person-into this room amid all of… these?"
Sarasper nodded. "That's why we must make haste to leave." He looked at Embra and added darkly, "For the first time in years of lurking in this house with ghosts swirling all around me until they seem old friends, I've begun to feel as if someone-or something-is always watching us."
As the healer spoke those words, an eye silently withdrew, unnoticed, from a tiny hole in the ceiling above, hard by the place where pillar and ceiling met.
The sun came in through the highest arched window in Castle Adeln and fell across the table at Baron Adeln's elbow. He sipped thoughtfully at his wine and set it down at the edge of the brightness to watch the play of reflections while his mind roved elsewhere. He was considering the implications of warriors returned from Ieirembor wandering over the Dozen Baronies at will, restless, hungry… and unpaid.
The servant standing silent and motionless in the corner saw the Baron's handsome face grow pale and acquire a tiny frown. Esculph Adeln reached up with a finger to stroke his chin-a sign of decisions being made and thoughts flying like striking falcons behind that placid face-and then said to the servant, "Bring the seneschal to us, and then withdraw until his departure."
Adeln rose and went to the window to look out over the roofs of Adelnwater, and the river sparkling past, until he heard the familiar voice behind him say, "Lord, I am here."
He spun about and said crisply, "Send messengers to our eyes up and